The tired boulevard, Dozing and off its guard, Slips from its boots that creak with polishing And rests its feet on the knees of the quiet hour -- Shifts the weight of its too important cloak And lets its shoulders droop in the dark. No challenge at the crossing, Only a sleepy wink that seems to say -- "Take over, it has been a heavy day." And then the turning upward toward the hills, Into the fragrance of the woody road -- Here trees have spread their boughs To catch the night, and hold its secret In their certain strength. They have not wearied in these hundred years -- And in the light Of the soft dark night, Only the boulevard -- so bold -- So young -- is old. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TEACHER by LESLIE PINCKNEY HILL A SEA DIALOGUE by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES LOVE LIES BLEEDING by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 99. AZ-ZABOOR by EDWIN ARNOLD THE QUIET LIFE by WILLIAM BYRD |